Page 55 of Charity

Agatha caught Estella’s pained gaze. Her grief was proof that her grandfather had been blessed by the love of two women.

Manning shifted in his chair as if uncomfortable. “He was a fine man…but we held opposing views on many things, including our affection for Lady Carrington. That kind of situation makes close friendship impossible between men. Your happiness and welfare are my first concerns. Tell me what you wish done and I will argue no more.”

Agatha pressed her cold hands flat upon the desk. The bloodless appearance reminded her of her grandfather, and she quickly buried them in her lap. She took a deep breath. “I believe my grandfather would have preferred a simpler service, in keeping with our position in society. I do not wish to give any offense, Lady Carrington, but what you suggest, while offered with the greatest proof of your attachment to him, is an elegant affair best suited to those of your elevated rank. My grandfather was merely a gentleman in trade, and I know our place in the world.” She turned to the vicar. “It would please me if you could act on this matter on my behalf. I should like the simpler service you outlined, with the burial to be at the church burial ground.”

Agatha rubbed her temple. The strain of last night was catching up with her. She was so weary, so ready for this nightmare to be over. Yet she could not rest until all was set in motion. “However, I do recall one conversation with my grandfather some time ago, but it was such a distressing subject, I am loath to bring it up.”

The vicar moved to the edge of his seat. “Of course, but if the discussion would set your mind at rest, please, you must unburden yourself.”

Agatha swallowed. “My grandfather had a fear of grave robbers. I should not like anything to happen to his remains once he has been laid to rest.”

The vicar nodded, a grim frown twisting his expression. “The thievery practiced by resurrectionists is always a concern among our parishioners, but there are ways to thwart such despicable acts. A mortsafe has proved to be most effective. It is a cage of iron placed over the coffin that thwarts any attempt to remove the body. But we can also employ servants to watch over your grandfather as well. I shall make those arrangements, too.”

“Thank you for your assistance.”

The vicar climbed to his feet. “If you will excuse me, I shall be off to make the arrangements. Miss Birkenstock. Essy. I will return later this afternoon with news.”

The silence left behind in his wake was deafening. Estella held Agatha’s gaze without flinching, but her lips were pressed tightly together.

“What troubles you, my lady?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Agatha frowned. “For what?”

“For involving you in a discussion that was inappropriate for you to hear. I had thought we, your grandfather and I, had been discreet.”

Agatha dipped her head. “I’ve not heard a whisper about it, but then again, I do live—did live—in the same house as my grandfather. I have always been alert to his changing moods. He was always happier after seeing you.”

Estella regarded her sadly. “He loved you so much. One of our last conversations was about your future. It vexed him to no end that you’d not married.”

Could she share the news that Oscar had proposed? Of course she couldn’t. She would have to wait to see if he still wanted her. “I’d rather not discuss marriage today.”

Agatha stood and turned her back to the viscountess. She could not have this discussion with Oscar’s mother. She couldn’t confide her reasons for discouraging previous suitors either. To answer truthfully, as she’d prefer to do, would cause unnecessary tension between them.

Better to be silent and wait and see. After all, there was nothing to be done.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“I had a feeling he’d been somewhat of an ogre about a marriage. In my experience, most parents are. I have goaded my children to secure influential matches, but I sometimes wonder if their lives will be happier than mine.”

Estella’s words sent a chill through her. “You were unhappy in your marriage?” As soon as the words were out, she regretted the blunt question. She couldn’t expect a woman of Estella’s higher social standing to divulge such personal details.

“My husband was something of a bully. Luckily neither of my children take after him. Oh, I know that my daughter has a reputation for being a trifle shrill, but my son is calmer, possessed of a fine and open mind about matters of the heart.”

Oh, this conversation really had to end. “I’m sure he is.”

Luckily George chose the perfect moment to interrupt. “I’ve taken the liberty of laying on breakfast in the morning room for both you and Lady Carrington. Is that acceptable?”

What would she do without George? “Thank you.”

Estella drew her toward the hall, away from her morbid thoughts, and to a waiting breakfast. Although her stomach revolted at the idea of consuming food, it was best she eat something. She had to stay strong to survive the coming burial and keep her mind sharp as she made plans for her future. At least she still had the orphans to love.

With that thought in mind, she filled a plate and sipped a cup of hot chocolate, all the while watching the viscountess pick at her food.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Twin points of pain lanced through Oscar’s skull when a shaft of morning sunlight hit his face as he crossed the bustling street. Whatever had possessed him to drink so much that he’d been grateful when Daventry offered a guestroom?